


A real asshole of the century

by Kaalimaa



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gun Violence, Kidnapping, Multi, Shooting, This is bad and i'm sorry, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 12:32:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18208370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaalimaa/pseuds/Kaalimaa
Summary: Arthur and Albert have a bad, no good, very shitty day.((Please read notes))





	A real asshole of the century

**Author's Note:**

> This isnt as graphic as the tags make it sound because my writing skills are just simply not that good. Also Charles is only mentioned in this and i'm very sorry for that.
> 
> Basically the product of me using my shitty writing as a coping mechanism.

His hands shook terribly. Everything seemed to be in slowmotion as he cradled Arthur's head with one hand. His other one soaked in blood as he tried to keep pressure on the wound. This shouldn't be it, this can't be the end, not like this. Albert found himself frantically pleading to god to not take Arthur away from them. Charles needed him, he needed him. A maniac's laugh brought his teary eyes up.

"Daww, did your tough little cowboy get an ouchie."

Albert grew furious. Who was this horrible being to take away someone's life, let alone his Arthur's and get away with it. He willed his tears to stop and stared the attacker dead on. He might be a scared little mouse in plenty of eyes but for these ones he would rather show his other side. Arthur had sworn to protect him and that he did, now it was Albert's time to repay him.

"What did we ever do to you?" He practically hissed. His muscles tensed and he could feel adrelanine start go course through his veins, ready to attack. "Oh we just don't happen to enjoy the likes of you-" He pointed the barrel of his gun at Arthur, who was still breathing heavily. "The likes of him trespassing our territory, especially after all the damage he's caused." 

Albert furrowed his brow. "The likes of him? Who's the one shooting innocents here, watching them bleed out." That made the raider throw his head back in laughter which gave Albert a second to inch his hand closer to Arthur's cattleman revolver. It lay abandoned on the ground next to his heaving body, Arthur was a damn good gunslinger but this time he just hadn't been fast enough. Albert blamed himself. Both of his boyfriends had warned about the dangers of this area. Yet he had still asked if they could go photograph there. And being the supportive men they are, they had agreed. The scenary was open and colorful. But now it felt like the sky was falling and the ground was happily greeting it. His memory stained by the imagine of his beloved one's blood splattered.

His movement didn't go unnoticed and suddenly the barrel was pointing at him, followed my a click. "Now i don't wanna kill you. You could have so much fun with me n' the boys, getting your pretty brains everywhere would just be a damn waste. Wouldn't it?" Albert was stuck. He didn't know what to do but he couldn't let it show so instead he slightly narrowed his eyes. Challenging. Though he knew it was useless since sooner or later the man would get bored and either kill or kidnap him. He was more worried about Arthur though. He was breathing calmer now but he was sweaty and probably boring holes into the shooter with his gaze like Albert. He just hoped to god he wouldn't say anything risky.

Charles had stayed behind to hunt for them, how behind though? They didn't know. Desperately he hoped he had heard the gunshot and was on his way to save them. The photographer did have his own gun but he barely carried it with him because he figured with two of the best shooters by his side he should be fine right? Well he has proven himself quite the idiot many times. Behind him he can only hear the horses stomping the ground and whining nervously. He didn't even dare to glance at his sides. If Charles was here, he wouldn't know it, the attacker wouldn't but maybe the horses would. The raider decided he was bored then, cocked his gun and shot the ground close to Arthur. It made Albert jump and Arthur groan as he tried to move. "Leave us the hell alone." He said threateningly and bared his teeth. Albert kept him down with shaking hands, they needed to hold on just a little longer.

"Nah, i might just leave y o u alone. See wolves have a real good sense of smell." The raider used his other hand to equip his lasso while keeping the gun's sight locked to Albert. He walked forward and almost gingerly worked the loose noose around Albert who still wouldn't budge, tried not to show his fear. "Well ain't you being a brave little thing."

A puff from the enemy's laugh smelled like horse shit, booze and rotten fish which nearly made Albert gag. A surprised yelp was pulled out of him as the noose suddenly tightened. Arthur growled and tried to sit up only to wince and hold his wound. "Let him go, let him go right now you son of a bitch or i'll make sure you'll never see light of day again." He straightened up more, unfortunately moving closer to his gun which of course set off the raider's warning bells.

Albert's heart sunk as a third shot was fired. One out of tree in mother earth, two out of three in Arthur's already fight worn body. The bullet hit his leg and more fresh blood began soaking through his clothes. The yell of agony tore into Albert's heart and he started struggling. He nearly kicked the raider off his feet but that only made his hogtie game faster. It was a tight tie, no way getting out however long you'd wiggle like a worm. So Albert screamed. It wasn't like when he would yell for help occasionally with either a cougar or a wolf after him. This is emptying his lungs into a long, ugly and wretched scream of bloody murder that scared birds off trees and made every animal in a mile radius turn their heads. He didn't stop until his lungs burned, eyes stung and throat felt like he had swallowed a hanful of sand. Blunt force trauma knocked him hard and all light dimmed.

**Author's Note:**

> This had potential in my mind but idk if i'm gonna continue it


End file.
